“My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. '—'It's not to be thought of,' says I, thumping the table till every glass on it jingled; 'and I know a way as'll prevent it. “And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather. Marry, come up! I'll see who's to be obeyed. Mrs.
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